Disclaimers: In Part One

Seeing Things
Part 3

by Kamouraskan

Grouch drew closer to her and then closed his eyes. Sniffed her scent while she cringed. As if she was a fine wine.

I interrupted his reverie. "So that's the trade. You take her, and my mother is left alone. Fair enough?"

He asked, reasonably, "Why shouldn't I take both?"

He was so damned cool that I nearly made my move then, but he was still too far away, and I wasn't about to underestimate his muscle and skill. But holding myself in, when the tension of the waiting, the sounds I could hear, the anger and fear that was building up, was too much.

I don't know what I would have done next because at that moment the centre bay window blew open, and they came in. Thousands of Scrypes. Shrieking, calling, demanding blood. I say thousands, but I have no idea. But the light, the air, seemed to be sucked out of the room and my lungs. I had to fight to stay conscious.

As if nothing was happening, Groucho asked again, "Why shouldn't I take both?"

I yelled over the shrieks, "Because otherwise you'll have to deal with me."

"You?" He laughed and pointed at me as I began to crumple. "Look at you. You're useless!"

Above our heads, some of the Scrypes were hovering and salivating over Gloria. Driving themselves into a frenzy, nipping at each other, fighting over who would have the first feeding. I put my hands to my ears to cut out the sound but Grouch moved behind me, grabbed my arms and spun me to the ground. He was laughing, calling me a crazy bitch, who should have taken her pills before facing him. I scrambled to my feet, but it was hard to think. There were just so many of them. I kept screaming in my mind HOLD ON HOLD ON!!! But the rustling noise kept growing and the slime dripping from the Scrypes began to cover the floor. More of their bodies plummeted to the ground as they fought amongst each other for the prize tied to the chair. I was covering my ears, my eyes closed, defenceless, when Grouch smashed me in the back of the neck and I went down again. Somehow I rolled away and struggled to stand, but slipped. I could see my jeans glistening and coated in slime from the floor.

But then the largest Scrype broke loose from the mob and went directly for Gloria. I was frozen; I watched in sick fascination as it lowered itself to her head almost lovingly. Even more slime began to ooze from its underside and it moved to touch her with delicate care. Groucho was beside Gloria as well and spoke to her. I heard him, even through the noise; "Don't look to her for help. Paula's out of it. Just like she was when I took out the Priest. He shouldn't have tried to take her from me." I was trying to understand just what that meant when the Scrype closed its slimy wings around her. I realized that I might have made a stupid, stupid mistake.

I began to crawl on my back towards her, edging closer on my elbows, but then the Scrype screamed. It simply touched her and thank all that's right and good, it wailed and shuddered. It screamed and the sound cut through the fog in my brain. The Scrype on Gloria seemed to partially dissolve into a powder, but even as its death rattle reverberated throughout the room, the others hardly noticed. Their feeding frenzy seemed incapable of ending, even as scraps of one of their own fell onto the floorboards beneath them. They continued to fight for the chance at her. Another charged free and attacked. It acted as though it had been dropped into acid. And then another, and another. And each died in shrieking agony as soon as they touched her. I waited, still lying on the floor, Groucho towering above me, ignoring me, reaching for her. And I took my steel-toed work boot and gave him the biggest kick in the balls any man has ever had. He froze, his eyes rolled and like a tree, he fell. And I heard him drop. Because the room was quiet.

Empty.

They were gone.

Gloria worked her arm loose from the slipknots we'd used, and pulled out the gag. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Still lying on the floor, I spat out, "no, I'm not."

She was hurrying to untie herself. "Are you hurt?"

Disgusted, I muttered, "I kicked him in the balls!"

She was now working to get her legs undone, but she raised her head to grin at me. "I know. And hard, too."

"You don't get it. I must know at least fifty ways to k… I know how to look after myself, right? But I was lying on the floor like a five year old and all I could do was kick him in the balls!"

"Miss Perfection! It worked, didn't it?" In agreement, Groucho rolled over and groaned like a wounded cow.

"Yeah," I agreed. "And once he was down, they disappeared."

"Hmmmmm…" she said. I ignored it.

"Anyway," she went on, dropping the last of the ropes to the floor, "I may not know fifty ways to kuh-, but I also can take care of myself. And I had to just sit here and be the bait. But do you see me complaining?"

I gave her a hand up. "Actually, yes I do."

"Well, I'm very glad I didn't need this." She pulled out the hidden pistol with distaste and thrust it towards me. I took it, but laid it on the coffee table away from Grouch, but where we could still get to it. It was Mom's after all.

She looked at the weapon sourly, and kept that expression when she looked at me. "I suppose this confirms everything for you."

"You mean because it worked? It seemed pretty obvious to me last night. If I could see Scrypes…"

"And I could see angels," she continued for me.

"And angels couldn't sit on my shoulder…"

"Then Scrypes wouldn't sit on mine. So they flew away?" she asked.

I looked about at the carnage lying about her chair and then at her still pristine dressing gown. "Ummm… not really… flew…"

"You won't be insulted if I prefer not to believe that I'm a spirit that smothered a child in the womb as well?"

I shrugged. "Angels wouldn't do that. They'd find one that was going to be stillborn instead."

She grinned that over-enthusiastic grin, but I have to admit it was almost endearing now. "Thank you. I hate to challenge your world view, or sound like a shrink, but…"

What was coming now? I braced myself. "But?"

She pulled me down to the sofa and asked earnestly, "Isn't it easier to believe that just maybe, when you faced your fears, faced the man who probably raped you when you were a child, that that's why all the Scrypes disappeared?"

I looked all around the room. Stared at that bulge in Grouch's back. "I wouldn't say they disappeared. There's about, well, several dozen splattered all over the floor."

"Then we better get the maid in here and wipe it up," my mother said calmly as she entered with two uniformed officers.

I would have said something smart-assed, but with the cops in the room and blue lights strobing and flashing across the bay windows that fronted the living room, I thought it could keep.

"The police are breaking up that old gang of yours, Grouch." I told him. He didn't even have the strength to glare as the cops hauled him to his feet. One of the cops said to my mom, "Trespassing will be enough to hold them for now. Then once we get their fingerprints and records, I'm sure we'll find we can charge them with more interesting things. We'll call you from the station and tell you when we need you." And then they handcuffed my biggest nightmare and simply took him away.

My mother was looking sadly after him. "He always seemed like such a nice boy. We all felt so sorry for him when he was left an orphan after the house fire." Then she looked at me and said dryly, "I appreciated that at least you didn't burn our house down."

I gave her my blandest look. "Why would I do that? I've always liked this house."

She laughed and opened her arms. "Come here."

Not that I wanted to say no, but I looked at my clothes and grimaced. "I'd hug you, I really would. But I'm all covered with…"

She nodded. "Scrype juice. I know. Go and wash up, I'll have the maid bring you something fresh to wear."

"No skirts," I teased.

She looked affronted. "Of course not. Jeans will do? I kept a few things of yours in case…"

I touched her hand just fingertips, and we smiled real, genuine smiles at each other, for the first time in, God only knows.

As I left for the john, I heard her asking Gloria, "you're not really her therapist, are you?"

Gloria coughed self-consciously. "Never really said that. I said counsellor."

"Then thank you, for your counsel."

"Well, if I ever get my PhD in abnormal psychology, I have a great subject for my doctorate."

By the time I came back, they seemed to be getting on fine but there were still bodies and slime all over the floor. I looked at Mom and she knew what I was thinking. "I thought I'd wait until you left to have the maids in. After all, I spent a lot of money to be told not to reinforce your delusions."

I asked reasonably, "Then why do it at all?"

"You might be right. Just in case. I like clean floors."

For some reason, that seemed to deserve a hug, and this time I took it; hell, wallowed in it.

So we stayed the night, even had a big breakfast together that was probably like normal people have, if I had a clue what that was or meant. I was offered a few bucks by Mom, which I turned down, only to find them stuffed in my duffel while waiting at the train station. It was a beautiful sunny day; most people would be thinking of it as perfect weather for a fresh start. But I was watching the commuters as they marched purposely passed me. Lawyers, accountants, nurses; many with dark shades clasped to their backs.

Whispering to them.

As you might have figured, I hadn't ditched the blonde. She was watching my eyes, and she somehow knew exactly what I was thinking.

"There's angels there as well," she said. "And in the end, God gave us free will. We don't have to listen at all."

"Or I could just take a pill, and it wouldn't matter anymore."

She pushed her arm through mine and I waited, knowing there'd be some declaration about truth, insanity and excitement of living.

Instead she said, "Buddy Holly! I love Buddy Holly!"

The urge to bop her came back full force. "Don't you have somewhere to go?"

She looked at me as if she had a right to be exasperated. "You can't think you can do it alone."

I tried to pretend like I didn't know what she was talking about. "What?"

"You're going to fight back. And you need all the angels and me you can get."

I snorted. "I've already had all the you I can take."

She folded her arms firmly across her chest. "What would you prefer? That I keep getting in your way, or we work together? Because that's the choice."

"You don't even know where I'm going!" I argued halfheartedly.

She simply shrugged. "I know there's going to be trouble. And you're going to need a friend."

I hated to admit it, but I liked the sound of that word. "Friends?"

"Friends."

We stared at each other for a long while, like you do when an immovable object meets an unstoppable force. Until I gave a resigned sigh, she grinned, and we went to buy our train tickets.

Just in case I changed my mind, she snatched up both our tickets from my hand and grabbing my arm, led us to the train. And I got on with as much of a philosophical air as I could. 'Cause as I said at the beginning, I really do have only myself to blame.

The End